


Game Change

by SpankyNewElf



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Love, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, orlesian sex toys, porn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 14:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18033827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankyNewElf/pseuds/SpankyNewElf
Summary: The quiet room in the northeast tower was a lifeline in his stressful life, and she never failed to answer his need when she was home.  But what happens when she's gone, and the stress continues?A standalone, but it will make more sense if you read the Northeast Tower, first.





	Game Change

Cullen slammed his door shut behind him and stood leaning against it, breathing hard.  His erection was slowly fading. He let his head thud back against the door, staring up at the ceiling above him.  How could he manage until she got home?

One goal was certainly being met successfully - he found himself going up to his sleeping quarters before the midnight watch change each night.  He didn’t go straight to sleep, but he always went to bed. Once up the ladder, Cullen stripped off his clothes and threw himself into the bed, keeping his eyes resolutely on the ceiling.  It wouldn’t help to look at the source of his frustration, after all. Laying there, though, his will power failed him; rolling over, he pulled the crumpled paper from beneath his mattress and lit a single candle so he could read it again.

_My Dearest Cullen,_

_This next trip promises to be a long one, with so much travel time simply to arrive and return, leaving out how long I’ll have to be here to get things sorted out.  The long separations are hard on us both, but I think you feel them more since they mean we won’t be able to visit the tower room. So I’ve come up with an alternative: something to remind you not only how often you are in my thoughts, but also that you do not bear responsibility for everything in creation on your shoulders - indeed, some things are under my control alone._

He’d been reading and rereading this letter for weeks, and never yet had he managed to get past those words without his cock twitching to attention.  Some nights, he tried to ignore it; others, he couldn’t resist wrapping his fingers around it, imaging a different touch, and trying to find relief by himself.  Tonight, with his recent arousal returning in full force, was one of the latter sorts. With a groan, he slid his fingers loosely around his cock, teasing himself the way she often did.  Blinking hard, he refocused on the letter.

_I found this fascinating little toy in - where else? - Orlais, on my last trip.  It promises to help with both these necessary reminders._

Here, as always, Cullen’s eyes were drawn to his cock, and the “fascinating toy” she had given him.  It looked like a ribbon, narrow and silky, slightly stretchy, just long enough to tie around the base of his cock comfortably.  It was a brilliant deep blue color, exactly the same shade as her eyes. He dropped his head back against the pillow with a groan.  He’d been dubious when this small thing had fallen out of the folded pages the first time he read them. He’d continued through her instructions with a doubting expression on his face.  He skimmed over them now, a sense of duty barely adhered to, on his way to more interesting parts of the letter.

_Just tie it around your cock.  Do it now. Tight enough that it won’t come off, loose enough that you have room to… grow._ (Her smug tone came through even in ink on paper, and he always rolled his eyes at the letter when reading this line).   _You may take it off any time you wish, anytime it becomes something you can’t stand.  Know, though, that if you take it off while I’m away - more to the point, while my half of the ribbon is away - the charm on it will be broken, and can’t be renewed until we’re together again.  I trust your judgement in this._

Cullen blushed here, he always did.  He wondered how the charm would be renewed.  And by whom. A mage, clearly - this was a thing of magic.  But would she wait until she went to Orlais again? Or would her pragmatic streak whisper that she had plenty of mages at hand, no need for the trip or the no-doubt exorbitant fee, and send her cheerfully to one of her companions?  The thought never failed to terrify him, an added incentive to submit to her creative and delightful control. He continued reading, hurrying his eyes along to less embarrassing words.

_It’s a simple spell, really.  Any time I touch my piece of the ribbon, yours will respond.  Brilliant isn’t it? Just a bit of sympathetic magic, really, with many applications.  Trust the Orlesians to come up with this one! Anyway, I can’t tell how sensitive it is, so you’ll have to let me know.  Certainly you’ll know when I touch it - which I will do every time I think of you. The sensations should last as long as I’m touching my piece - a quick brush whenever you’re on my mind, more strokes over a longer time when I have longer to spend with you as the center of my thoughts._

The mental images this conjured for him, always had his fingers tightening around his cock.  The slow, teasing brushes of his fingers along his length changed to more serious strokes; he imagined her in whatever bed or tent she would spend the quiet hours of the night in, thinking of him, running her fingers again and again over the ribbon, and his hips started rising off the bed to thrust into his hand more eagerly.  His eyes moved over the next lines of the letter.

_Of course, you don’t realize how often I think of you, so this may be something of a revelation.  I think it will be fun, though… I may not be able to walk up to you and grab you any time I like while I’m home, but no one will think twice if I’m just fiddling with a bit of ribbon._

This promise - or threat - hadn’t really penetrated that first night, though now Cullen couldn’t for the life of him figure out how he’d missed it.  

It had been several days after she left, several nights of almost-connection as she aroused him from afar, before she had followed through on the threat.  Then, she’d spent most of the day playing with her bit of ribbon - and him - at odd times throughout the day. He’d gotten no work done, even in the pauses she granted him, his erection never fully fading, every minute spent torn between a desperate wish for release, and an equally desperate fear that she would grant it while he was talking to someone.

That had been the day he discovered one of the features of her little toy that she hadn’t told him about - though he’d later realized she had implied it in the first paragraph of the letter, he’d just missed it.  “”Indeed, some things are under my control alone,” she had written. And that day - that day which had passed in a cloud of frustrated arousal - was when he learned what she meant.

He couldn’t give himself an orgasm.  He had tried, hoping for some relief part way through the day, when his erection was barely fading between the times she spent arousing him.  But despite his efforts - and he had tried desperately bring himself to climax - he couldn’t cum. The little ribbon tightened around the base of his cock each time he was close, not releasing until his orgasm had receded out of his immediate reach.  

That night, he had skipped supper to go up to his bed, lying naked in the cool air of his chamber, hoping desperately that she didn’t mean to leave him frustrated and aroused all night.  She hadn’t left him in suspense for too long, seeming to know the state he would likely be in. She toyed with him for a short time, bringing him nearly to climax before stopping all sensation several times, leaving him thrashing on his bed, a constant stream of pleas and moans falling from his lips.  Finally, she brought him quickly to the edge, and then pushed him over it without warning. He came with a shout that he barely had time to muffle with his pillow.

She hadn’t tormented him like again since the first time, keeping him entertained with occasional brief touches throughout the day and long nights of teasing before allowing him release.

_You were worried, last time I was preparing for a journey.  Do you remember? You told me that you were certain I found you to be a burden, that I would be relieved to leave home for these trips.  I let you pretend that I had convinced you otherwise, but I knew you still held doubts. Let this, then, be your answer. You don’t have to “need” anything from me, don’t have to ask silently for my control and your surrender.  In fact, all you need to do now, is enjoy the game we’ll play. It won’t be the same thing for very many times in a row, I promise you that._

She had kept that promise as much as possible when she had only one form of contact between them.  She had surprised him with different times, different ways of delaying his release, different amounts of teasing arousal throughout the day.  If she had returned and asked what he thought, he would have given her his unqualified approval.

That was before two nights ago.  Two nights ago, she had altered the game into something he had never anticipated.  She had teased him for over an hour without letting him tip over the edge. Then, she had stopped.  For a moment, he had thought the charm had failed. Not quite willing to remove the ribbon himself, he had gripped his cock eagerly, and tried to bring himself off.  It hadn’t worked, the ribbon tightening around the base of his cock to stop his orgasm. So, the charm was working, and she had left him in this state on purpose. He swore under his breath.  It had taken quite some time before he could relax enough to fall asleep.

Last night had been the same.  She had played with him longer, brought him closer to climax, but had stopped before allowing him to come.  He understood the message, certainly. She was in control. Even far away, even without going to the tower room, she was in control.  If it hadn’t been for the fog of arousal, he would have appreciated that more - it was what he needed, what he asked her for, what he agreed to when he put the ribbon on in the first place.  But this was so much harder than a single night spent in the tower room.

Today, she had aroused him so often throughout the day, that he had lost count of how many times he had felt her touch through the charm.  Certainly enough that his erection had never quite gone away, leaving him feeling sensitive and desperately aroused all day.

She had started on him in earnest as he made his way back to his office after supper, bringing him almost to orgasm as he walked along the battlement wall.  He’d had to stop in a dark corner, one hand braced on the brickwork, as he panted and swore as quietly as he could. When the charm had released him, he had known that she wasn’t going to wait long before starting again, and hurried straight here.  

Now, he was laying here on his bed, making matters worse while she was leaving him alone, rereading this blasted letter and touching himself.  Her touch, when it came, was enough to make him jerk his hand off his hyper-sensitive cock.

Sometimes, he wondered what she looked like while she was doing this to him.  Sometimes, he wondered what he looked like, but that was easy enough to imagine.  Lying naked on his bed, his cock pointing proudly towards the ceiling, red and throbbing with desire.  When she started teasing him, he locked his hands around the edge of the mattress, but couldn’t stop his hips from desperately thrusting, looking for contact that wasn’t there.  He blushed at the thought of his frantic motions without anything touching his cock except for the small blue ribbon.

Finally, as she kept a steady rhythm stroking along his length, he couldn’t stand the ephemeral touches anymore.  Rolling onto his stomach, and clamped his hand around his cock and thrust energetically into it in time with her strokes.  He groaned as she kept them going, knowing that she was going to allow him release this time.

The orgasm, so long anticipated, washed over him and left him gasping for breath; he collapsed on the bed, removing his hand from his cock and he tried to catch his breath.  He gave a few lazy thrusts against the sheets as he felt featherlight touches from the charm, sighing in relief and satisfaction. That had felt so good after the last days of denial and the teasing she’d been doing.  

The touch from the charm was less direct than even her gentle hands, he could stand more touch from it even after he came.  It felt nice, really, that she continued those light touches. He thrust lazily against the sheets in response. A nice way to come back to earth after that powerful climax.  His mind fogged with release, he didn’t notice that she was pushing him towards another orgasm until he was nearly there. Suddenly, her strokes became firmer and faster; he picked up an answering rhythm almost reluctantly, thrusting against the sheets beneath him.  He came a second time with a shout, shocked to feel that this one was nearly as powerful as the first.

Cullen was sure he had a fairly ridiculous smile on his face as he relaxed on the bed; even the spreading wet spot beneath him wasn’t enough to detract from the pleasure she’d given him.  His cock twitched against the sheets and he gasped, shifting away from even that smooth touch on his hypersensitized flesh. Shifting onto his side, he stared as his cock, still red and glistening slightly, still half erect.  His cock twitched again under his gaze, growing slightly harder. He blinked at it, calling his shattered focus back. Which was when he realized the whispers of sensation along his cock weren’t just after effects of two really mind blowing orgasms.  She was still using thing charm.

His cock twitched again, bobbing in response to her charm-projected touch.  Cullen whimpered, shaking his head in useless denial. Her strokes grew firmer as his cock hardened, more insistent; he knew she was driving him toward another orgasm, but he wasn’t sure he would survive it.

He reached out, protectively wrapping his fingers around his throbbing erection, unsure even as he did it if he was trying to help or hinder her plans.  His body wanted this orgasm as much as he’d wanted the first two, but his mind shied from the thought of such over-indulgent pleasure. The moment he touched his cock, though, he hissed and jerked his hand away.  He was too sensitive for the touch of his hand, only the non-physical touch of her charm was enjoyable. His arousal growing, Cullen turned onto his back, locking his hands around his headboard to keep them away from his cock.  His mind was a confusion of embarrassed, desperate desire. He couldn’t keep his hips still, or his eyes off his cock, which was waving wildly each time he raised his hips into a touch that wasn’t there.

It took longer this time, to find release.  The wait was tantalizing and maddening, her touches lighter as if she feared hurting him.  He was moaning long before she was finished with him, not caring how much noise he was making.  His hips moved erratically, hopelessly trying to find more contact for his aching cock.

Patiently, she drew him on a long, slow climb toward orgasm.  When he finally reached that peak, it was more of a gentle launch and floating return to earth, than the head long rush and leap of his previous climaxes.  

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, staring at the bare boards of his ceiling after this orgasm.  He looked down his body, lifting a wry brow at his completely deflated cock. It didn’t even twitch under his gaze, he could imagine it trying to hide from any further notice.  The thought brought a ghost of a chuckle, but he didn’t have the energy for any more reaction than that. Awkwardly, he shoved the sheets aside until he could find a comfortable spot, and pulled his blanket over himself.  He needed to clean up, but he felt boneless and thoroughly relaxed in the wake of this evening. It would wait until tomorrow.

Lifting a hand to find his letter was an effort, forcing his eyes into focus was almost more than he could manage.  But he never let himself fall asleep without reading her last lines to him, and counting the days until they could expect her return.  

He did the mental math: another week.  Surely not enough time for her to set him up for another night like tonight, but she was creative.  He knew she would be thinking of other things to do to him ( _with him, for him_ ), when she returned.  Feeling both pleased and nervous at the thought, he turned his attention to the end of the letter.

_So you see - or, I suppose you might not now, but will soon - that I think of you constantly.  You are never too much effort, your needs are never too great or too small to deserve my attention.  You are not a drain on my heart or mind that I tolerate because of your usefulness as a tool. You, Cullen, hold my heart, my hope, and my peace.  I am honored that you allow me to hold yours in return._

Culled fell asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
